


Sheriff's Reward

by afterandalasia



Category: Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Western, Community: disney_kink, F/M, First Time, Human Woody Pride, Past Violence, Schoolmarm Bo Peep, Sex, Sheriff Woody Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-02
Updated: 2011-06-02
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:49:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After numerous kidnappings, near-death experiences, and epic rescues, Bo decides that it's about time the sheriff knew exactly how she felt, and what she wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sheriff's Reward

**Author's Note:**

> From the [anon prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/361.html?thread=2394473#t2394473) at Disney Kink.

In some ways, it was one of the most beleaguered towns on the frontier. One-Eyed Bart and his wife Betty patrolled the borders of their town, the evil Dr. Pork Chop seemed to be fixated upon it, and that was not to even speak of the of the bandits and everyday troubles that plagued them.  
  
But in the other ways, it was one of the luckiest. And, Bo thought as she glanced out of the window for a moment from the bustle of her schoolroom and the children hurrying to leave, a large portion of that was down to their Sheriff.  
  
No matter how eager they were to come to class, the children always seemed just as eager to leave, and as she held open the door for them to go she had to laugh at the way they almost tumbled over each other, waving and chattering and calling goodbye back to her, into the bright afternoon sunshine. As the last of them finally made it out (Andy Davis, possibly her favourite though she wasn't supposed to have one, with a call of, "Thank you, Miss Peep!") she was about to let the door close behind her when a strong hand wrapped around it.  
  
Bo started, gasping, then couldn't hold back a smile as she saw the figure on the other side. The Sheriff removed his hat as he stepped in, revealing his sleek brown hair, and gave her a warm brown-eyed smile that made her melt.  
  
"Why, howdy there, Miss Roberta."  
  
"I've told you before, Sheriff," she replied playfully, "you can call me Bo."  
  
"Only if you call me Woody, ma'am," he replied.  
  
They would swap almost the exact same words each time that they met, even now. It was like their little ritual, their little game. The cowboy perched against her desk as she straightened up a few of the desks around the classroom, picking up stray sheets of paper fallen out of workbooks and gathering them up. Bo's smile grew a little more wicked as she bent from the waist to pick up a fallen piece of chalk, glancing from the corner of her eye to see the Sheriff's appreciative glance.  
  
She straightened up and looked over her shoulder playfully, through her blonde curls. "Something caught your interest, Woody?"  
  
The Sheriff, more chivalrous than some in the town, coloured as he was caught and looked away, fingers plucking at the edge of his hat. Bo walked back over to him, put down her gathered items at his side, and tucked her fingers beneath his chin to get him to look up into her eyes.  
  
"You know you're allowed, Sheriff," she said, and kissed him on the lips.  
  
They savoured the kiss a moment, the sweet contact, then Bo drew away and flicked her fingers out from beneath Woody's chin. He smiled at her for a moment, then inspiration flashed in his eyes and he almost stumbled from the desk, going to stand up before falling back again with a thump.  
  
"I came to ask," he said, "how you were after... the other day."  
  
Another of One-Eyed Bart's nefarious schemes. Bo felt Woody take a gentle hold of her arm and turn it over, pushing back her sleeve to reveal the fading reddish bruises there. His brow creased as he ran his fingers over them, making the hairs on her arm stand on her end.  
  
"It's okay," she said softly. "They don't hurt."  
  
He looked up to her again, hands still on her arm. His palms were rough and worn from his work, the backs of his hands tanned and dirt-marked and with little nicks from barbed wire. Their warmth wrapped around her arm, but seemed to spread further. "I'm sorry I didn't get there earlier, Bo."  
  
With another smile, she reached up to stroke his cheek. "It isn't a problem, Woody. You got there in time. You always do." Again she reached across to kiss him, this time drawing him a little deeper, his lips tasting of the sun and desert air. A slight gasp, a deeper kiss, and she felt like she was falling into him when there was a cough from the doorway and they sprang apart as if caught.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt," said the figure from the doorway, "but we're in need of your help, Sheriff. Some of my boys have found stuff up in the hills they think might be to do with 'Chop."  
  
Woody came to his feet again, picking up his hat again. "I'll be right there, Sarge."

The Sarge nodded, his greying hair and old-fashioned values undimming when it came to his strength and the honour he had won during the war. He and his sons were Woody's greatest allies in the town, and some of his best friends. The respect between the Sarge and the Sheriff said a lot about both, Bo privately thought, as Woody returned his hat to his head and cocked it to just that perfect angle. The action made her smile.  
  
Just as he was about to leave, she called, "Oh, Sheriff?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Roberta?" he replied, just a note of playfulness in his tone. The whole town knew that they might as well have been courting, but somehow there were still these rules by which they played in front of others.  
  
"I've got a chicken in need of culling. Care to help me eat up the broth this evening?"  
  
She could see Sarge's smile, but was far more concerned with Woody's. "I'd love to, Miss Roberta. I'll drop by this evening then."  
  
A nod of her head, a twitch of the collar of his hat, and she let out a sparkling laugh as he and Sarge turned to go. There was a flutter in her chest at the sight of him, lean and sun-worked, as he strode back across the dusty road to where his horse was tied up outside the saloon, talking intently with Sarge as he went. The dust-speckled red bandana round his neck, the jeans fitted tight to his legs, and of course his sheriff's badge would be sparkling in the sun. No-one ever saw him any different.  
  


 

 

 

  
  
"Well, Bo," said Woody, pushing back his plate, "I declare that is the best I have ever eaten in about as long as I can remember."  
  
She could not help but laugh. "Why, what flattery! Well, all I can say is that it's nice to have someone to cook for." Chicken broth and apple pie didn't manage to taste so good when you were by yourself, after all, compared to being shared. Especially with someone like Sheriff Woody. Rising, Bo went to gather up the plates, only for a hand to fall over hers.  
  
"Let me," said Woody.  
  
"And housetrained too!" she teased, as he kissed her once again on the lips. He was always so gentle, so sweet, so... chaste, one could almost say. Bo leant her hands on the back of the chair and watched as the cowboy collected up the plates and set them next to the sink.  
  
Before he could turn back she crept up behind him, and as he spun captured his hands in hers. Woody looked surprised, almost shocked, as she pressed herself close to him, closer than she had dared before, her breath coming slightly quicker. "Is everything okay?" he asked, and she couldn't decide whether it was nervousness in his voice.  
  
"I wanted to say thank you, Woody. For all those times you've saved me." Now she reached up with one hand to stroke his cheek, the vaguest stubble there. The warmth of his body where they were pressed together seemed to surge through her as she reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him again, slipping her tongue between his lips. His arms came cautiously around her, pressing into the curve of her back as she arched into him, her breasts pressing against his chest, exploring his mouth.  
  
Their breathing seemed to grow more ragged together as she ran one hand through his hair, pushing him up against the side, his hands tightening on her skin. She knew that some city folk looked down on the West for its 'immoral' ways, but goodness if she wouldn't rather know things that ladies in the eastern cities weren't even supposed to know _of_.  
  
"Bo..." Woody whispered, their faces just inches apart, and she reached up to press one finger against his lips. She could feel his breath on her skin.  
  
"Stay the night, cowboy," she said, and kissed him one more time for good measure. He didn't argue.

Woody had visited her house before now, to help with repairs or return something that she had lost, or just to check up on her, but he did not know where her bedroom was. She had to lead him by the hand, still exchanging kisses and trying to undo his bandana with the other hand, as he almost tripped over his own feet and stroked her slender waist. Finally the door closed behind them and she pulled him up against the wall, letting him draw away just long enough to remove his bandana and reveal his neck to her. Immediately she kissed it, tasting the salt-sweat on his skin, and he gasped at her audacity.  
  
She had his waistcoat off before he even managed to catch up with her roving hands, but then he slipped his hands behind her to the little buttons that ran down her spine and began wrestling with them, one by one.  
  
"How do you get into this thing?" he panted, breaking their kiss for a second to glance down over her shoulder. She gave a breathless laugh.  
  
"Practice."  
  
It was an answer with a suggestion in it, and she held her hand over his Sheriff's badge, cool now away from the sun and over his heart, as she kissed him deeply. Her teeth grazed his lip as she started to undo the buttons on his shirt, untucking it from his jeans so that she could push it open and run her hands over his chest, through the light sprinkling of brown hair there.  
  
"Where'd you get this tan?" she whispered in his eye, tongue brushing against the lobe as he finally reached the end of the buttons and reached to peel her dress from her shoulders.  
  
"Working in the summer... doesn't always need a shirt," Woody replied, as she slipped her arms out of her dress and wiggled her hips just slightly to let it slide all the way to the floor, exposing the thin white cotton of her underwear. Woody seemed hesitant to put his hands to her again, and she pushed his shirt off him before grabbing his wrists to draw his hands to her waist before returning her attention to his chest, letting her nails scrape just slightly against his skin to hear him gasp.  
  
"I think I'd like to see that some time."  
  
He captured her mouth in a kiss as she reached for his belt buckle, undoing it clumsily. His hands slipped over her sides, pushing up the cotton to brush beneath the skin underneath, her breasts soft in his hands and nipples hard when his thumb brushed against them. The wall was rough against her back but his skin was smooth and muscled beneath her hands as she trailed her fingers down, lower and lower, until she was undoing his jeans.  
  
Woody's breath caught in a chuckle.  
  
"What is it?" Bo whispered. It seemed to be hard to find the breath to speak properly.  
  
"I don't think you'll get those off over my boots."  
  
"Maybe we'd best take them off, then."  
  
He backed towards the bed, her hands trailing down his arms and through his fingertips as she let him do so, a smile still on her face. He pulled off his shirt and dropped it beside the bed, revealing his work-hardened body and formed muscles. His attention turned to his socks and shoes, dropping them neatly aside; by the time that he looked up, Bo had crossed to stand before him. She slipped her hands into his hair and tilted his face up, leaning over him to kiss him on the mouth, feeling his hands slide up her body and beneath her camisole. A whimper bit at the back of her throat as his hands cupped her breasts, gently squeezing, his long fingers tugging gently at her nipples and sending flickers of pleasure all through her. Kissing him more deeply, she shifted her weight forwards, straddling him against the bed until he fell backwards, coming away from her, onto his elbows.  
  
Finally, the smile on his face had taken on a desirous edge. "I think you forgot your boots, Bo," he whispered.  
  
Bo rolled her eyes and swatted at his chest as he lay sprawled beneath her, then swung her leg sideways to sit on the bed beside him. His fingers trailed over her back, making her gasp, as she removed her own boots and socks - stockings might have been more elegant, perhaps, but they didn't last long out here - and then flopped down onto the bed beside Woody, rolling up onto her side to meet him there.  
  
He touched her lips gently, just for a moment. "You're sure about this?"

With a smile, she kissed his fingertips. "You got this far before asking?"  
  
His sheepish laugh told her that he didn't have an answer for that. Bo drew them together again, mouths searching each other out, then Woody tilted his head to kiss her neck and shoulder instead. He gently teased aside the shoulder of her camisole, pressing his lips to her skin, and she tilted her head back with a sigh. Her skin tingled beneath his touch as he stroked her side, goosebumps rising on her arm, and then she caught hold of his chin and drew him into a kiss again.  
  
"Ah ah, Miss Roberta," he whispered, and hearing her name made her breathless. "I think I’ve got some unfinished business here.”  
  
Before she could ask she realised that he was undoing the buttons on her camisole, peeling open the white cotton to reveal her skin beneath. She looked pale against him, her breasts round and firm, nipples rose-pink and already hard beneath his fingers as he brushed against them. Then he put his lips to her breast, and she couldn’t suppress a soft moan as he laved them with his tongue, sucking gently at her skin as he ran his other hand beneath her back and lifted her into him. Bo let her head fall back, aching more and more strongly for him, as her camisole was peeled from her shoulders to reveal her upper body, pert breasts and slender waist, soft but strong as they all were in this frontier world. The cool air brushed over her body, tingling at the dampness on her breasts as Woody’s mouth moved lower, over her stomach, to plant a feather-light kiss at the base of her belly just above the line of her pantaloons.  
  
Bo gasped, feeling the button undone, the fabric oh-so-slowly drawn away and sliding down her thighs. She bent at the knees to let them be slid fully away, exposing her body to the air, and looked up, opening her eyes, to see Woody’s gaze fixed on hers.  
  
“You are so beautiful,” he said softly.  
  
She couldn’t help a smile. “You ain’t bad yourself, cowboy.” Rolling over, she got to her knees, running her hands down his chest. “But I think we’re still a little behind here.”  
  
His belt was already undone, and her nimble fingers made short work of his fly before hooking around jeans and underclothes both and pulling them from him. Woody gave a brief laugh – perhaps nervous? she wasn’t sure – which faded into a sigh as she slid one leg between his, pressing her breasts to his chest, kissing him over and over again. She never could get enough of the taste of his lips.  
  
His hands slid over her, tracing the curves of her body, like some sort of map as they moved from her shoulderblades, down the hollow of her spine, over her waist, moving down to curve round her hips. He had been half-hard when she had drawn his jeans from him; now, as her breasts pushed against his skin and her thigh shifting slowly between his, she felt him harden further, pressing against her and sending thrills through her body. Woody’s breath was starting to come shorter, one of his hands slipping down to brush against the front of her thighs, almost shyly moving between. The first brush barely parting her curls, then he reached slowly deeper, and she could not help the soft encouraging sounds in her throat as his fingers parted her lower lips and slowly began to explore her heat, leaving new flames in their wake. Down almost to her entrance – she gasped – then drawing away again, to trace small circles of pleasure on her skin, her teeth grazing his lip as she tilted her hips towards him.  
  
Circles slowly increasing in their intensity, sending little shuddering waves through her. Bo slid her hand down between them as well, shifting her weight a little higher so that she could wrap her hand around him. He gasped, she chuckled breathlessly, and let her fingers start to explore without seeing the line of his shaft, the silk-soft skin of his head, the way that his body twitched when she touched here or here or _here_. In response his fingers slid lower again, achingly slow, then slid within her.  
  
Close, so close. Bo gave a moan as she felt his fingers curving into her, just one at first then gently with two, the hand still tangled in the bedclothes tightening to a fist.  
  
“Are you all right?” Woody whispered.

She kissed him for a reply. “I’ve been on horseback many years, Woody. Don’t go think you’ll hurt me.”  
  
In response he slid his fingers into her again, her walls clenching slightly around him, and she gasped and arched her back to press against him. More firmly, her hand slid back and forth along his shaft, now slick with sweat and his own juices, both of them breathing fast as she felt trembling heat rising like a wave within her.  
  
Clumsily she kissed the corner of his mouth, then nipped gently at his lower lip. “I want you in me, cowboy,” came the whisper, desperation she had not expected creeping into her tone. “I need you.”  
  
“You ain’t alone there, Bo,” he replied, and her heart fluttered as she rolled onto her back, her hands coming up to his shoulders, his curled in the sheets beneath her as he glanced down, positioned them together, then slowly entered her.  
  
They paused for a moment, heavy breathing cutting through the silence of the room, gazes locked in that complete moment. Then, slowly at first, Woody began to thrust into her, filling her, and her hands tightened on his skin until her nails left little red marks. She watched his hair falling into his eyes, his skin tanned and gleaming with sweat, his brown eyes locked intently, so intently, on her blue as she took him in, knees bent to hold his hips, lying beneath him in a way that felt only natural.  
  
His arms all but encircled her, and she closed her eyes as she felt the wave of heat building further in her, higher and deeper, and then in a crashing wave it tumbled over her; she cried out at her climax, writhing beneath him, and Woody drew her closer, hand slipping around her shoulders, kissing her cheek and ear and neck. Barely were the stars fading from her eyes as she felt him come as well, thrusting hard into her and whispering, only whispering, her name.  
  
For a while they lay curled together, arms around each other, breathing in the scent of each other’s skin and desire. Then gently they rolled aside, her head coming to rest on his shoulder, nuzzling into his chest. A faint silver scar crested his collarbone; she reached out towards it, though he shivered slightly as her fingers touched it.  
  
“Sorry,” she said.  
  
“It’s okay,” he replied. “Just...”  
  
“One-Eyed Bart?” she asked.  
  
Woody nodded. “The badge deflected it. Lucky, huh?”  
  
With a smile, Bo leaned up to kiss his cheek again. “Something’s smiling on you, Sheriff.”  
  
A smile crossed his face, and he reached across to stroke her hair. “I think it is, Miss Roberta. I think it is.”


End file.
